Love Amongst the Dragons
by hmweasley
Summary: When a dragon threatens the safety of a Muggle village, Kingsley has no choice but to get help from the Romanian dragon reserve. A year later, Hermione convinces Kingsley to finally take a vacation, and he decides to take Charlie up on his offer for a visit.


**A/N: So, when I was trying to think of a title, "Love Amongst the Dragons" absolutely would not leave my mind, so yes, I know it's cringe-worthy, but it's what we're going with. Ten points to the house of your choice if you know what it's a reference to.**

**Written for Hogwarts Assignment 10: Poetry studies task 1 - Write about a character learning to not be so hard on themselves.**

**Word count: 5,379**

* * *

The sounds of a commotion reached Kingsley before anything else did. He pushed the papers he'd been scanning aside and ran a hand over his tired eyes, setting his face into a neutral position before Harmony Jones burst into his office while several of his subordinates did their best to hold her back.

"It's all right," Kingsley said, holding up a placating hand and giving his employees a smile. "I'll speak with her."

Campos, his personal secretary, glanced distrustfully at Harmony as he left, but soon, the door had been shut behind the disgruntled employees, leaving him alone with the enraged woman whose eyes shot fire at him as she towered over his desk. Her dishwater blonde hair had come free from its bun in several places, with some of it sticking out and some of it hanging around her face.

"It's the dragon again," she snapped before he could speak. "It's attacked the same village as before. I told you this would happen, Minister. Five Muggle homes were on fire when I left. The Aurors will have to repair the damage and cast a hundred memory charms. Again. When will you actually do something about it"

Kingsley was very tempted to close his eyes and sigh, but he refrained. He knew that his own exhaustion from dealing with the determined dragon couldn't match what was felt by Harmony, the closest witch or wizard living near the newly constructed Muggle village.

"We can't kill it," Kingsley said, keeping his tone as neutral as possible. "That would violate the law except in extremely limited circumstances—"

"Then what will we do?" Harmony asked, throwing her arms out in frustration. "Keep shooing it off until it offs a Muggle before someone—almost certainly me—is able to get there? I'm sorry the Muggles decided that a dragon's nesting site was the perfect place to build a village, Minister, but they've done it. That's where they live. It's either kill the dragon or perform strong enough memory charms on the entire village that they forget about their homes. Can your Aurors do that, Minister? Because no matter how many times we send that dragon away, it's going to come back. If you see another solution to our problem, then please do let me know because, from where I'm standing, sacrificing the dragon is the only way to save human lives."

There was one other solution, but it was such a logistical nightmare that Kingsley had long been putting it off. Dragons were highly regulated creatures after all. They couldn't cross international borders without stacks of paperwork being filed. He'd seen part of the preparations for the Triwizard Tournament back when Fudge was Minister, and he wanted nothing to do with it.

"We'll send it to mainland Europe," he said with a resigned sigh. "It will be safer in a dragon preserve there. Dragons are tenacious, yes, but even they can only fly so far. Romania's reserve is better equipped to handle her than ours; she won't find her way back."

Harmony didn't look convinced, but some of the fire had gone from her eyes at least.

"I hope for all of our sakes that this plan of yours works, Minister."

Kingsley leant back in his chair, rubbing at his temples.

"No one hopes for it more than me, Ms Jones."

* * *

The woman's face went blank as Kingsley's memory charm took effect. He frowned as he dropped his wand and watched her wander off, still in a daze.

Memory charms were some of his least favorite magic that he'd had to perform as an Auror. He knew they were sometimes necessary to protect the wizarding world, and he knew that the woman was more likely to have felt distress if she'd remembered the giant dragon burning down her house. Yet he felt horribly guilty about taking away something so personal as a memory. It was theft no matter how it was justified.

He ran a hand over his brow as he headed towards the small team of Aurors who'd been dispatched for the job. They hadn't wanted him to come along, but he'd needed to. Sometimes it was difficult to remind himself that he was Minister for Magic now, not an Auror. Some part of him would always long to go back to his days of being out in the field, but that wasn't why he'd insisted on tagging along. No, that was because Harmony's words about his actions possibly leading to Muggle deaths had shaken him far more than he wanted to admit.

It was under his watch that this dragon had terrorized these Muggles again and again. Helping to remedy the situation firsthand was the least he could do. If the work was difficult, then that was only more of a reason for him to be there.

The dragon handlers had arrived in the time he'd been checking for any remaining villagers. Kingsley recognized the red-haired Charlie Weasley as he approached the area where they were loading the dragon into a cage. He only knew Charlie briefly from their time in the Order, but he trusted the man for no other reason than his familial connections. Knowing the dragon would be in Charlie's hands made him feel slightly better about the entire situation.

Charlie was watching the dragon closely. Kingsley waved briefly at the head Auror as he passed him on his way to speak to Charlie. They watched the dragon in silence, and Kingsley was sure that Charlie's heart was breaking as much as his was to see the dragon ripped from its home.

The formerly magnificent-looking Welsh Green looked sad and pathetic from its spot on the ground. Chains around its body and snout kept it from doing any harm, but they weren't the most humane method for controlling it. Kingsley silently thanked his past self for not inviting Hermione along on the trip, but he also made a mental note to review the laws on animal treatment during times like this. If there was a way for his Aurors to complete the same task without the chains, he wanted to know about it.

At least the dragon handlers appeared better prepared for the occasion than the Ministry had been. They'd brought along a cage that, while small, would provide much more freedom of movement for the dragon.

"Thanks for letting us know about her," Charlie said as a group of his fellow handlers loaded the rumbling dragon into the cage. "This girl is gorgeous. I'd be sad to see her killed for behaving how a dragon is supposed to."

Kingsley hummed in agreement. He was mesmerized by the dragon. Her eyes were only half open as she slumped over in the cage, but Kingsley swore that her gaze was on him as she laid there. Somehow, she knew he was responsible for her current situation; he was sure of it. The guilt clawed at his insides.

"I've never been this close to a dragon," he said. "I've seen glimpses of them in Gringotts of course, but never anything like this."

Charlie nodded.

"It's a shame that most people don't get to really meet them. Maybe if people saw more of them, they'd have a better respect for them. I think it would do wonders for reducing poaching."

"Or people would just end up hurt thanks to their own stupidity," Kingsley commented lightly.

Charlie snorted and shrugged.

"Or maybe that," he allowed. "Merlin knows even us handlers have our share of injuries."

He held up his arm to show Kingsley a burn mark.

"This is from just last week," he said. "Even when you're careful, things happen. You're doing a good thing getting this girl away from the Muggles. She'll like Romania. It's wonderful there."

Kingsley nodded and turned from the dragon. It would be nice to believe Charlie's characterization of the situation, but he couldn't when he saw what the dragon looked like now that she was locked up.

Instead, he tried to imagine the dragon reserve where the Welsh Green was sure to make friends and where she'd have all the space she wanted in which to spread her wings and build her nest. She'd have more freedom than he did, and that realization sent a pang through his chest.

"I'm sure she'll be happy there," Kingsley said softly. "I kind of wish I could see it for myself."

It had been an offhand observation, something to daydream about without acting on, yet Charlie took the comment in earnest.

"You should visit," he said with a smile. "We don't typically allow tourists—too dangerous, you know—but as the British Minister, I'm sure we could make an exception. I could show you around; you could see this girl getting settled in to put your mind at ease."

Kingsley's daydreams became more vivid. Everything Charlie suggested sounded nice. He thought about seeing all the different types of dragons, especially the ones he'd only read about in books. It was tempting, almost too tempting.

"I can't," he said with a sigh. "Unfortunately, as you said, I'm Minister for Magic. There's always work to be done here in England. I can't get away."

Charlie's smile dimmed but didn't disappear.

"Well, if you ever are able to get away, the invitation stands."

Kingsley gave him a small smile and waved goodbye as Charlie went to join his fellow handlers in hooking the dragon's cage to their brooms. Kingsley could only imagine how long and tiring their journey would be, and he didn't envy Charlie for that one bit. He tried to focus on that as he Apparated back to the Ministry.

* * *

The dragon may have no longer been a concern once it was shipped off to Romania, but there were plenty of other issues to keep Kingsley occupied.

They'd done their best to prosecute everyone accused of war crimes after Voldemort's demise, but while the most notorious of the Death Eaters were in Azkaban, other conflicts continually popped up that prevented wizarding Britain from being fully at peace.

Some pureblood families claimed to have had property unfairly confiscated during or after the war and wanted compensation. There was the matter of deciding how the Ministry would make amends for the Muggleborn registry that people had been forced to sign up for. Many magical beings had aided Voldemort, but their legal status often raised questions about if or how they could be prosecuted, especially when they needed to make clear that it wasn't the entire species that was on trial.

Kingsley had known being Minister for Magic would be difficult, but there'd been no way to know just how hard it would be until he was doing the job. He wanted to be fair and equitable, but there were so many problems on his plate at any one time that he never felt like he was giving each of them the attention they deserved.

He leaned back in his chair. There was still a large stack of documents on his desk, but he needed a minute—just a minute—to rest his eyes. And his mind.

He closed his eyes and pressed his fingers over them before moving up to rub at his temple. He could feel his regular headache flaring up again.

A knock on the doorframe of his open office door made him open his eyes. Hermione Granger hovered in the doorway, looking at him with a new stack of papers in hand and concern in her eyes.

"Hermione," Kingsley greeted, sitting up straight. "What can I do for you?"

Hermione sighed as she stepped into his office.

"I have some more documents on the Highland case," she said, holding out the papers.

Kingsley thanked her as he took them and added them to the stack on his desk. Despite himself, he couldn't help the way his lips pressed together as he considered the work he still needed to do before he could call it a day.

Hermione, who had more than enough work of her own, hovered in front of his desk instead of leaving. Kingsley raised an eyebrow.

"Do you need something else?"

Hermione hesitated for a second, shifting her weight a few times before speaking.

"Not me, but uh… Well, I don't want to overstep any bounds, sir, but a few of us are worried about you."

Kingsley didn't bother to conceal anything as he pressed his fingers into his temple again and shook his head.

"Hermione, I appreciate the concern, but I'm fine."

Though she looked regretful, she pushed back.

"With all due respect, sir, you don't look fine. You look like you're about to collapse from exhaustion. Some of the other employees and I have actually had a talk about whether or not we should take you to St Mungo's if you do collapse."

Kingsley collapsed against the back of his chair and regarded Hermione carefully, trying to calculate what to say to get her off his back.

"Everyone's working hard," he said carefully. "I'm no different."

"We all take vacations. When was the last time you had a day off, sir?"

He opened his mouth to answer but promptly closed it when he realized that he didn't know. Weekends no longer meant the same thing for him as they had before the war. It had been necessary at first, but even he recognized that perhaps that was a bit of a problem.

Hermione pressed on before he could speak.

"There are more than enough of us who are capable of taking care of things here while you rest, Kingsley. You don't need to put all of the responsibility on yourself. That's what the rest of us are for. There's a whole section of the Ministry handbook dedicated to what to do when the Minister is out sick or on holiday. I've already studied it."

Kingsley considered the idea.

"I guess I can't let you have studied that handbook for nothing," he said finally. "It's as dry as a bone."

Hermione gave him a small smile.

"I like knowing all of the proper procedures anyway. Though perhaps when things are calmer we should look into updating some of the language. The thing pre-dates Queen Victoria, and the authors were a little...wordy."

"Noted," Kingsley said with a short nod.

His smile of amusement fell as he considered the actual idea of a vacation.

"The one problem, Hermione, is that I have nothing to do on vacation."

Hermione tilted her head to the side, an amused smile on her lips.

"I think that's the idea of a proper vacation, sir."

Kingsley sighed and shook his head. He supposed he would have to figure something out. Perhaps just sitting at home with nothing to do _would_ be good for him after years of almost constant work.

Suddenly, he recalled Charlie Weasley's invitation to visit Romania from a year prior. He had said the offer would still stand whenever Kingsley chose to take it, but it had been a year. There was no telling what had changed. But maybe…

Kingsley looked up at Hermione, who was watching him with curiosity.

"What is it?" she asked, her voice rising like it did when she thought he was going to tell her something had gone wrong.

Instead, Kingsley gave her another smile.

"I might have an idea about that vacation," he said, tugging a blank piece of parchment from his desk drawer.

* * *

"I'm sorry it's not much," Charlie said, motioning at the small cabin they were leaving.

Kinglsey looked back at the cabin for himself. It reminded him so much of the cabins his father had taken him to as a child to go camping, something Kingsley hadn't done in more than twenty years.

"It's perfect," he told Charlie, who gave him a smile in return.

"I hope the rest of the reserve is just as perfect for you," he said, motioning around the land as they walked towards the administration buildings. "Don't worry about any dragons bothering you. There are top of the line wards around all of the buildings. Any place the dragons can enter are clearly marked, so a top-of-the-line Auror like yourself shouldn't have any problems staying out of trouble."

Kingsley laughed.

"I don't know about that. It often seems like I get into trouble quite easily."

"Ah," Charlie said, shaking his head. "You'll fit in nicely around here then."

A large Opaleye took to the air in the distance, and Charlie paused to observe its flight.

"That's Alvin," he said, fondness in his voice. "We found him and his brothers Simon and Theodore when they were babies. Someone killed their mum, but they've grown up nicely."

"Excuse me," Kingsley said, unable to stifle his laughter. "What are their names?"

Charlie opened his mouth to repeat the names when he noticed Kingsley's amused expression.

"Oh," he said with a chuckle. He ran a hand through his hair. "You get the reference? One of our Muggleborn handlers named them when they were babies. The rest of us don't really get it. Something about chipmunks?"

"I dated a Muggleborn years ago who was a fan," Kingsley said.

"Huh."

Charlie fell silent as they watched Alvin fly through the sky. Two more Opaleyes that must have been his brothers joined him. The three dragons rough-housed in the air until the smallest of the lot began to plummet, only righthing himself right above the ground.

Kingsley sighed as he watched them. He longed to feel as free as those dragons looked. Despite being in a reserve, they looked content with life.

"They were a lot worse off when we found them," Charlie said, his lips turning downward as he remembered it. "One of them had burn marks. We think his mum accidentally got him when the poachers attacked. And they were all underweight. Their mum seems to have been dead for a while before we got there, and they couldn't feed themselves."

"What about the Welsh Green?" Kingsley asked suddenly, his eyes still on the dragons above them. "Do you know where she is?"

"I have an idea," Charlie said. "She likes to hang out near a copse of trees not that far away. We named her Annabelle by the way, but I've taken to calling her Anne."

Kingsley considered the name. It certainly wasn't something he would have chosen, but then, these dragon handlers had decided to name dragons after the Chipmunks. Kingsley had a hard time even imagining dragons with names.

"We can head over there if you like," Charlie said, tugging Kingsley from his thoughts. "She's become rather tame over the past year. By dragon standards that is. I'll still need to go over some ground rules with you on our way."

Kingsley agreed to it, and as they walked towards the trees, Charlie ran over all the dos and don'ts of encountering dragons on the reserve. He also went over the most basic spells they used to keep themselves and the dragons safe, should Kingsley need them. Kingsley had become almost preoccupied enough with remembering the rules that he forgot where they were going until the familiar Welsh Green was in sight.

"Remember," Charlie said softly, "we have to approach carefully. A startled dragon is a dangerous dragon."

Kingsley nodded and let Charlie take the lead in approaching the dragon. He chatted with her like one might a dog as he approached, letting her know that he and Kingsley were there. She watched him the way Kingsley had often seen cats watch people, with a faint air of disapproval that was, nonetheless, unthreatening. She trusted Charlie enough that she made no move to leave or harm him.

Charlie went so far as patting her on the nose, and though she didn't lean into the touch, she didn't shy from it either.

"Come here," Charlie said, motioning for Kingsley to come closer.

Kingsley's heart raced at the thought of getting that close to a dragon. Even when they'd captured her, he hadn't tried to touch her. Adrenaline rushed through his veins not unlike what he remembered from Auror missions. It brought him back to an easier time, and he found himself smiling as he held his hand out in front of him just like Charlie had done.

He was within a few feet of the dragon when recognition sparked in her eyes. The men only had a few seconds to react before she breathed fire. Charlie raised his wand, erecting a shield around both men that blocked the flames. The heat of them still reached Kingsley though. He stumbled backward as the dragon flapped her huge wings and took off into the air, disappearing in the distance.

Kingsley's stomach sank.

He'd had nightmares over the past year about this very same dragon being miserable after he forced her from her home. He'd tried to tell himself that his fears were exaggerated, that of course she would be happy on the reserve. And she had seemed happy enough at first.

But she'd recognized him, and she'd wanted nothing to do with one of the men who had taken her from her home.

Kingsley stared at the spot in the sky where she had disappeared. Behind him, Charlie swore and stepped forward to place a hand on Kingsley's shoulder.

"I'm sorry about—"

Kingsley stepped away from the touch, cutting off Charlie's words too.

"It's fine. How could I have expected any differently?"

He turned to look at Charlie and hated the sympathy he saw in his gaze.

"She really is fine, Kingsley. Seeing you might have startled her, but she _is_ happy here."

Kingsley swallowed. He wished he were capable of believing that.

"I need some space," he said, backing away from the dragon handler. "Just for an hour or two."

Charlie nodded as Kingsley began trekking in the direction of the cabin he'd been given. He didn't return Charlie's goodbye.

* * *

Kingsley was about to accept that he couldn't ignore his hunger pains and stay in his cabin until nightfall like he wanted to when there was a knock on his door. He took a deep breath to steady himself before he opened it.

On the other side stood Charlie, a tray laden with sandwiches and tea hovering in the air in front of him. He looked at Kingsley with a large smile that only made Kingsley sigh as he stepped aside to let him in.

"I thought you could use some lunch," Charlie said, his voice booming in the small interior of the cabin.

It was a big change from the hours of silence Kingsley had just had. He watched Charlie arrange everything he'd brought on the low table in the center of the cabin without saying a word.

Once he had finished and settled into one of the chairs, Charlie looked up at him with a raised eyebrow.

"I brought some of everything," he said, motioning towards the sandwiches. "I sure hope there's something you like."

There were more sandwiches than any two people could eat. And Kingsley was fine eating just about any type of sandwich there was. When his mouth opened, that wasn't what he said to Charlie though.

"I'm sorry about earlier."

Charlie's smile dimmed, but he shrugged as he raised his cup of tea to his lips, looking for all the world like he'd expected to have this conversation sooner or later.

"You have nothing to apologize for," he said as he sat his teacup back down. "You didn't do anything. I haven't lied to you. Anne really is fine. She likes it here. The sight of you startled her, maybe it stirred up some things. I don't know. Despite all the time I spend with dragons, I can't read their minds, but I do think I understand them better than I do people. And she's a happy dragon. Don't let her convince you otherwise because of a one off experience."

Kingsley wanted to agree. Or to at least pretend to in order to satisfy Charlie. But when he remembered the dragon, so at peace one second and so frightful the next, he couldn't pretend that he felt okay about it.

"If you'd left her in England, people could have been killed," Charlie said. "_She_ could have gotten killed. You have to stop being so hard on yourself for it when you did the right thing."

Kingsley sighed and settled into the chair across from where Charlie sat. He picked up a sandwich without checking what was on it and tore pieces off the bread instead of eating it.

"That's all true," he said. "But it's not just the dragon. It's...everything."

He glanced at Charlie, expecting him to ask questions, but he received nothing but a kind, patient look that had him pouring out all of the thoughts that he'd long been hesitant to share with another living soul.

"Being Minister means making tough decisions. Nearly impossible decisions. I knew that before I accepted the job. I thought I understood what that meant and that I could handle it. After all, I made plenty of difficult decisions as an Auror. But I was too arrogant. Nothing as an Auror compares to the decisions I have to make every day now, many of which affect all of wizarding Britain and sometimes even the Muggles.

"There's no guidebook for what I do. There's nothing to assure me that the decision I'm making is the right one. A lot of the time, I'm positive that there is no right answer, but I have to choose one anyway."

He sucked in a deep, shaky breath and dropped his destroyed but uneaten sandwich back on the platter.

"I've spent so much time choosing between the lesser of two evils that sometimes I don't know what my morals are anymore."

It was the most honest he'd been with anyone for years. He'd long ago accepted that honesty just wasn't something the Minister for Magic could afford. Too many of his actions would be off putting to someone who hadn't been in his shoes when he'd made them.

From the little Kingsley knew of Charlie, they were wildly different people. Everything Charlie did was fueled by his love for dragons and his desire to keep them safe. It felt far purer than Kingsley's life had been for a long time. There was no reason to believe Charlie would understand what he was going through, and Kingsley wouldn't have blamed him for judging him as harshly as he judged himself.

Yet Charlie's reaction was to continue smiling at him in a way the stirred emotions in him that he hadn't felt in a long time.

He reached out a hand, and Kingsley, unsure, took it. Their interlocked hands hovered over the platter of sandwiches, and Kingsley could only stare. It had been a long time since he'd had such simple physical contact with another person, and he wasn't sure what to make of it.

"I could never do what you do on a daily basis," Charlie admitted quietly. "It sounds difficult, but that only means you're a much stronger person than me."

Kingsley scoffed and tugged his hand from Charlie's. He began pacing across the cabin, no longer able to look at the younger man.

"That's not what that means at all," he said.

He wanted to say more, but he could only stumble over attempted words. With a shaky sigh, he came to a stop, his back to Charlie. He stood there for several minutes, taking deep breaths and willing the tears not to come. When Hermione had been adamant about him taking a vacation to finally relax, he knew this hadn't been what she'd had in mind. He'd have given anything to be back at his desk where things were routine even if they were difficult. His job didn't provide him with as much time to obsess over all of the things he'd done wrong.

A hand came to rest on his shoulder, and Kingsley stiffened at the touch. Charlie didn't move a muscle until Kingsley relaxed. It was nice, having a small reminder that there was someone else who cared and wanted you to feel better. It really had been such a long time since he'd had that.

Neither of them knew how long they stood there, Charlie's hand on Kingsley's shoulder and without facing each other, but it was the first time in years where Kingsley felt himself begin to exist without thinking about his next move or the things he needed to do. No, he was merely present in the world, Charlie's hand on his shoulder a continuing reminder that he wasn't alone.

And maybe, just maybe, he was one step closer to believing what Charlie had to say.

* * *

The day Kingsley had to leave for England came much sooner than he'd expected. When Hermione had all but forced ten days of vacation time on him, he'd thought it was far too much time. He was likely to lose his mind before it was over.

Yet, the ten days had passed, and Kingsley found himself more reluctant to return to work than ever.

He'd see Anne several times since the first incident, and though she was still cold towards him, she hadn't tried to hurt him. He thought they were making progress, and he could only imagine how much more progress they could make with more time.

Charlie hadn't been lying when he said she was enjoying herself, and Kingsley had felt his quilt over what he'd done to her fading as the days passed. He'd even started to wonder if some of the other things he continued to harbor quilt over were the same way. Perhaps if he looked at them in a different light, he would realize that he'd been far too hard on himself over the years.

That was the one thought that fueled him to return to England, though his heart ached at the thought of what he was leaving behind. Even if it had only been ten days.

As he stood across from Charlie, his trunk at his feet, he found himself truly nervous for the first time in years.

"Thank you for inviting me here," he said, giving Charlie a smile. "I honestly don't want to leave."

Charlie's face lit up.

"It's magical here," he agreed, taking a step closer to Kingsley.

There was a burn mark from only two days before marking his neck. Kingsley couldn't help but look at it as he spoke.

"I'm thinking of retiring soon."

The words came out almost like a question. He had only been thinking about it for several days, and he certainly hadn't planned to tell anyone when he wasn't sure of the idea himself. For some reason, the words had just come out before he could stop them.

Charlie's smile widened, but he pressed his lips together as if he were fighting against it.

"You're welcome back here anytime," he said softly.

His eyes shone as he looked at Kingsley, and Kingsley felt the tug in his stomach that he was getting used to experiencing around Charlie. He hated knowing that he would lose it once he returned to London, and if he was honest with himself, it was that feeling that he was regretting leaving far more than he was the dragons.

"Be careful," Kingsley said with a short laugh. "If you act too serious about it, I'll take you up on that offer."

Charlie laughed too, but he shook his head.

"Believe me," he said. "I am serious about it."

Kingsley's breath caught in his throat. His smile froze on his face, and he didn't know how to respond. His hand shook as he reached into his pocket to pull out his portkey. He gripped his wand tightly, not wanting Charlie to see how much he had affected him, as he tapped the small Ministry token reserved for high-ranking officials to use as portkeys.

They only had thirty seconds before he was whisked back to England.

Taking a deep breath to steel himself, Kingsley looked into Charlie's eyes and cleared his throat.

"Then I suppose I'll be seeing you soon," he said.

Charlie gave a short laugh, his eyes not leaving Kingsley's.

"I suppose so," he agreed.

And just like that, Kingsley was gone.


End file.
